


The Rest Is Silence

by stardustgirl



Series: ashes, ashes, (from them, a phoenix rises) [2]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: (at least i'd like to think it is), (but like its very lowkey), Anakin Skywalker Is Dead, Angst, Blood, Canon Divergence - Order 66, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Ezra Bridger Needs a Hug, Feelings, Found Family Bingo, Healing, Heavy Angst, Jedi, Kanan Jarrus Needs a Hug, Mace Windu Lives, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Phoenix Nest Discord, Post-Order 66, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sheev Palpatine Is Dead, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt, Torture, Young Ezra Bridger, everyone has PTSD, i take rush clovis and make him worse, kanan and mace are The Best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21770905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustgirl/pseuds/stardustgirl
Summary: The Purge ended early, but still too late.  The damage was done.  The Jedi were branded traitors by anyone brave enough to speak out in the chaos following Chancellor Palpatine’s apparent assassination.  Three years later and now in hiding due to veiled threats from the Senate, Depa leads a small group to the Temple in search of answers.  The boy they find instead only prompts more questions.Most Recent Chapter: "Of Padawans and Guilt"
Relationships: Depa Billaba & Ezra Bridger, Depa Billaba & Kanan Jarrus, Depa Billaba & Mace Windu, Depa Billaba & Mace Windu & Kanan Jarrus & Ezra Bridger, Depa Billaba & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Depa Billaba/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus, Kanan Jarrus & Mace Windu, Padmé Amidala & Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala & Rush Clovis, Padmé Amidala & Sola Naberrie
Series: ashes, ashes, (from them, a phoenix rises) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567018
Comments: 8
Kudos: 117





	1. Revisiting

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you goes out to the Phoenix Nest Discord for helping me with literally every aspect of this AU. Love y’all.
> 
> Title from William Shakespeare’s _Hamlet._
> 
> TW: Child Murder, Blood, Flashbacks, Amputation, Victim Blaming Themselves

Depa Billaba glances over her shoulder at Ezra, offering a fond smile to the boy. He smiles toothily back.

“Are we there yet?”

She chuckles. “No, not _quite_ yet.” Depa returns her glance to the windshield, glad that they’d found the boy before reaching planetside. Sure, he isn’t supposed to be here with her and Jocasta on this mission. But she’d rather they _know_ he’s here than not know.

That way, she can be prepared for any panic attacks.

Jocasta finally enters the cockpit, clearing her throat. “Master Yoda confirmed that we are to prioritize recovering the meditation exercises and Temple lectures over history. The historical records are secondary compared to the deeper nature of the Force.”

“In his own words, I’m guessing?” Depa chuckles again as Jocasta nods.

“Were you expecting anything less?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Can I help?” Ezra interrupts. “I’m really really really good at reading!”

“I’ve heard you read, you _are_ good, but we need you to do something _special._ ” Ezra nods excitedly at the other woman’s words and Depa returns most of her focus to preparing to drop out of hyperspace. “How much of the Temple do you remember, Ezra?”

“There were a lot of rooms. And they were quiet. Uh...there were the fountains in that one room, and there were the gardens….”

“Good.” The librarian nods. “There were also many meditation chambers. We need you to meditate in one and focus on what the younglings your age did a thousand years ago. Can you do that for me?”

Ezra sighs. “I _guess._ ”

She smiles. “Good. Thank you, Ezra. This will be a huge help.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs before beginning to hum quietly to himself, pulling a small wooden puzzle box from his pocket and starting to mess with it.

They just need to make it through this trip without being seen by any of the anti-Jedi senators, and without Ezra breaking down again. No big deal.

* * *

It is a _very_ big deal, as it turns out.

“Senator Organa, we need clearance codes. The Chancellor’s people—“

“ _Don’t worry about the codes. I can take care of it,_ ” Organa says, and the ship’s internal comm clicks off. Depa sighs, pushing a strand of loose hair back haphazardly. Clovis’s people still remain too close for comfort, their speeders hovering on either side of the _Noble_ even as the light freighter speeds through Coruscant’s air traffic. She inhales deeply, focusing on the Force and the fact that she _knows_ everything will be okay. Because what will they do if it’s not?

Within five minutes, Clovis’s people disperse, and Depa could swear even the _Noble_ breathes a sigh of relief. She guides the ship down to one of the lesser-known hangars of the Temple and touches down, shutting off the engines moments later.

“Are we there _now?_ ” Ezra asks, looking up from his puzzle box. Depa laughs.

“Yes, we’ve arrived.”

She rises from her seat and Jocasta from hers, Ezra already up and bouncing on the balls of his toes. “C'mon c'mon _c’monnn!_ ”

“Wait for us,” Depa reminds him gently. The boy does, though he rolls his eyes.

They exit the ship and Depa pauses, staring blankly around at the hangar in front of them. Unbidden, the memories from their last day here rise up, threatening to overflow.

 _“Organa said there’s a vote in the Senate right now about another Cleansing. We need to leave,_ now, _” Mace says, words firm. She can sense the barely held together man underneath them easily._

_“But where—“_

_“Anywhere. Anywhere they won’t find us until we’re ready to be found.”_

She pushes the memories down and continues onward.

She and Jocasta leave Ezra in one of the meditation chambers with a dusty cushion, promising to be back soon. She would stay with the boy herself, but Jocasta needs help if they want to get in and out as quickly as possible.

But when, halfway through sorting records, they feel a strong surge of _fear_ in the Force, she and Jocasta shoot glances at each other.

They’re running off to Ezra within seconds.

* * *

Ezra remembers the Temple a lot more than he lets on.

However, there’s also a fair amount he _doesn’t_ remember—he doesn’t remember Jai’s face except for when Master Skywalker’s lightsaber came lunging toward him until his eyes rolled back and he collapsed, he doesn’t remember Sors’s voice except for his screams when Master Skywalker missed and severed his arm instead of his head. But he _does_ remember their broken bodies on the floor of the High Council Chamber, and he _does_ remember muffling his sobs as he curled up in the vents afterward, and he _does_ remember Mace limping next to him as they searched for other stragglers.

And he _does_ remember lying in front of the Senate, telling them all that he didn’t see anything happen.

So when Master Nu and Master Billaba leave him in the meditation chamber, he gets up and goes to the door and leaves.

He still remembers the way to the High Council Room, and he’s tall enough now that he can reach up and key the doors open himself. The room is spotless, the blood from three years long since cleaned. But Ezra still sees the bodies and the blood pouring onto the floor, hears their screams and sobs as Master Skywalker moves methodically through the room, feels the crying of the Force as its children die—

A hand rests carefully on his shoulder.

“Why are you here?”

He jumps, breath coming in short, quick gasps as he cranes his head to look at the unfamiliar figure behind him. He’s human, and looks several years older than Ezra. A teenager, if he had to guess. He’s dressed in dark, tattered robes that seem to be an odd mockery of the Jedi’s.

“I...I was remembering,” he says quietly.

The older boy only stares at him for a long moment before shrugging. “Why _here,_ though?”

“I’m not su—“

A memory hits him, hard and fast, and he’s not in the Council Chamber anymore but instead crawling out of a vent, trying to keep himself numb because everyone’s dead everyone’s de _ad except for you why didn’t he kill you why didn’t he—_

“Hey!”

He starts again, trembling as he glances up at the teen again. He’s now in front of Ezra, on his knees and staring intently at the boy.

“You okay?”

“Ye– yeah. I just, this...this room….”

“I know,” the older boy says quietly. “I saw. On accident, you, ah, you showed me.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay.” They’re both silent for a minute before Ezra comes up with an idea.

“Oh! Did you want to meditate with me?” He barely keeps himself from saying _you look like you need it_ because he has a feeling Master Kenobi would find that rude. Thankfully, however, the other boy nods.

“Yeah.”

The other boy walks across the room and kneels. Ezra faces him and kneels as well, focusing on clearing his mind out. Before he can, however, the door bursts open.

“Get away from the boy,” he hears Depa say slowly.


	2. The Viper and the Bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Referenced Child Death, Referenced Character Deaths, Referenced Assassination

The stranger stands quickly, eyes narrowing as his gaze darkens. He’s young, she realizes with a pang—much too young for the darkness swirling around him.

But he’s still too close to Ezra. And not moving away.

“I said get away from the boy,” she repeats, hand tightening around her ‘saber hilt. The teen’s gaze flicks to the gesture and he swallows thickly, taking several steps back. “Thank you.”

“Why are you here?” Jocasta asks from behind her.

“I could ask the same,” he says, voice toneless.

“You’re not allowed to be here,” Jocasta says. “This is hallowed ground. Preserved by the Third Historical Society of Corus—“

“The same applies to you.”

Depa takes another step forward. “Ezra, come back over here please.”

The boy listens immediately for once, scurrying over to her side and clinging to her robes. She recognizes the gesture as one he does both defensively and to comfort himself.

“Why are you here?” she repeats Jocasta’s earlier words to the teen.

“I told him he could come with us!” Ezra says just as the other boy opens his mouth to answer.

“You...what?” Depa blinks in shock, finally looking away from the teen and back to Ezra. “You told him…?”

“Yep! Master Kenobi told me we should always help people who need it.”

“I don’t _need_ help,” the boy snaps.

“I meant just in case. And I like making new friends. Can he come with us? _Please?_ ”

“I….” She shoots a worried glance at Jocasta.

The librarian watches the boy for a moment before giving the slightest of nods.

Depa returns her gaze briefly to Ezra before glancing at the stranger. “He can.”

* * *

“How are your kids?” Padmé asks, smiling at the hologram.

“ _They’re great. Luke’s been talking a lot more, and Leia always asks us what the people on the HoloNet are talking about whenever we watch the news._ ”

Padmé laughs softly, smiling as she looks at her children playing with a block tower behind Sola. Her sister follows her gaze and grins, gesturing to the children. Leia rises, staring impatiently down at Luke.

“ _Come_ on! _Mama wants us!_ ”

“ _Let me fin—_ “

“ _Mama wants us_ now, _Luke!_ ”

“If it’d be better for me to call back, I can after my meeting—“

“ _No, see, they’re coming now, here’s Leia._ ”

Leia clambers onto her aunt’s lap, kneeling and looping her small arms around the woman’s neck loosely before looking at the hologram.

“ _Hi Aunt Padmé!_ ”

She can’t even _begin_ to describe how much it hurts that they don’t think of her as their mother. _It’s for the best,_ she tells herself.

_But is it?_

_Of course it is. Stop being foolish._

“Hi Leia! Sola tells me that you’re watching the grown-up shows.”

Leia nods, the picture of seriousness. “ _I think you shouldn’t voted for the new thing._ ”

“What new thing?” Padmé asks, trying to think of what Leia could be referring to.

“ _She means the bill to split some of the Separatist planets when the war ends._ ”

“Ah,” she says, nodding slowly. Luke walks into the frame, glancing up at Padmé in the hologram before climbing up onto the couch next to Sola and Leia. “Why don’t you want me to vote for it, Leia?”

“ _Because that man didn’t look very friendly,_ ” she says, still completely serious.

“Which man?”

“ _The guy who was in the middle of everyone and didn’t talked much._ ”

 _…oh._ Leia means Clovis.

Padmé laughs. “I’ll consider it, how does that sound?” Leia nods and Luke scoots closer.

“ _I gotta go swimming!_ ”

“You _did?_ That sounds fun! Where did you—“

Her datapad beeps without warning, and a quick glance reveals a meeting reminder.

“Oh. My meeting got moved up an hour and I forgot, Sola, Leia, Luke, I have to go. I’m sorry—“

“ _No, it’s totally fine, they can go back to building their tower. Love you._ ”

“ _Love you Aunt Padmé!_ ” Leia chirps.

“ _I miss you,_ ” Luke adds quietly.

Padmé smiles sadly. “I’ll be back home in a week, okay? The Senate closes its session tomorrow.”

“ _Yay!_ ” Leia slides off of Sola’s lap and starts jumping up and down.

“ _Alright, we’ll let you go. Bye!_ ” The kids join in Sola’s farewell, Luke waving emphatically.

“Bye,” Padmé smiles, hanging up after a quick wave. The moment the hologram disappears, Padmé is off her couch and bolting across the room, setting the holocomm down to charge and grabbing the one with her documents for her meetings pre-loaded. Moments later she’s bolting out of her apartments and toward the repulsorlift, trying to walk as quickly as she can without seeming hurried. Finally she reaches the ‘lift and calls it to her level.

It’s too long—in her mind, at least—when she finally arrives at the Chancellor’s offices. She hesitates before the door, remembering coming here after the trial to see the tape still up as they tried to determine who had assassinated Palpatine.

Mace Windu, she remembers. It had been Mace Windu who had essentially caused the continuation of the war.

Palpatine was a double agent, he’d said. Palpatine had confessed to it himself before killing three other Jedi Masters, and supposedly killing Mace.

Only, Mace was just knocked out. He had woken in time to hear the whole exchange with her husband and had acted accordingly afterwards.

He was still too late to save the children, he had acknowledged.

( _And your husband’s soul,_ he left unsaid.)

Padmé steels herself and presses the chime, barely stepping back to wait when the doors slide open. The door to the inner offices is already open, and a voice calls for her to come in.

She does.

Rush Clovis sits at a desk, glancing up quickly. “Come here.”

And once again, she does.

He smirks faintly, lifting his gaze from his datapad to Padmé as she approaches. He gestures. “Take a seat.”

“I think I’ll stand,” she replies curtly.

“Suit yourself,” Clovis shrugs, shutting his datapad off as he rises and moves to her side of the desk. She backs away from him carefully, eyes narrowing as he takes up a position leaning against the corner of his desk.

“What do you want, Clovis?” Padmé finally asks bluntly. “You requested this meeting with possibly the _vaguest_ memo I have ever seen. I have things to do. People to—“

“Children to care for, perhaps?”

Her blood turns to ice.

Clovis’s smirk grows. He knows he’s won, she can see it in his eyes even as he inspects his fingernails. “I know about you and the rogue Jedi.”

“Who else knows?” she whispers.

“For now, no one.”

“Why?” Padmé questions coldly. She wants to know. _Needs_ to know.

Why hasn’t Clovis used this to upturn her party?

He’s been a political opponent of them for a long time now, primarily butting heads when it comes to the issue of the Jedi. Clovis being elected Chancellor in the wake of Palpatine’s assassination did nothing to assauge these fears, either, instead only inflaming them.

And it drives Padmé insane.

But Clovis should be using this against her, she should be seeing images of her face frozen with mouth open mid-sentence plastered across every newsstand and serial, “ _Naboo Senator’s Affair with Jedi Murderer?_ ” on top. She should be receiving calls from home, her parents wondering what the kriff she’s gotten herself into this time. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and Bail and Mon comming, asking, “ _Have you seen this yet?_ ”

And instead, silence.

“Because I would prefer to broker a deal with you, an exchange, of sorts.” His smile is an Akivan viper’s, and her heart is the wing of a bird already caught between his teeth. He has her right where he wants her.

“What _kind_ of exchange?” 

“To put it simply, information.”

She can play this game too, then. He hasn’t caught a Flit-wren.

He’s caught a falcon.


	3. Old Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Referenced Character Death, Referenced Child Neglect, Panic Attack, Mind Invasion via the Force, Vomiting, Implied Child Abuse

“ _I’m blocking the sensors along your route at the moment, and he’s in a meeting. You should be able to slip out okay._ ”

“Thank you, Senator.”

Depa clicks the ship’s comms off, sighing in relief. They’re almost out of here, thanks in no small part to Organa’s continued interference with the numerous patrols and sensors. If he’s discovered, she honestly has no idea what they’ll do. Thankfully, today doesn’t appear to be that day.

“What’s your name?” Depa asks, glancing over her shoulder as she guides the ship through Coruscant’s traffic.

“Don’t have one,” the boy they found at the Temple mutters in reply, shrugging. He sits in the seat behind the copilot’s, gaze firmly on the floor.

“Well can you tell us why you were in the Temple, at least?”

“No.”

Depa lets a breath out, readjusting her grip on the steering yoke. “That’s...that’s okay,” she says. “Later, maybe?”

The boy only shrugs and turns away.

If she focuses, she can hear Master Nu and Ezra going over the Core planets in another cabin of the freighter. A quick glance over her shoulder tells her that the teen is listening, too; his head’s tilted just _slightly_ in that direction and his eyes are sharp, focused.

“And which planet has mountains and a temperate climate? The Vice Chair of the Galactic Senate is….”

“Alderaan,” the teen murmurs, seeming to do so without thinking about it. Only seconds later, Ezra says the same answer.

“Did you study culture?” Depa asks.

“Sometimes.”

“Mm. You know, I did too, when I was a bit younger than you,” she adds gently, trying to coax him into a response longer than a few words.

He just shrugs. Depa takes that as a better sign than no response and continues.

“Do you have a favorite planet?”

He hesitates this time before responding with a quick shake of his head and a soft, “No.” She makes a note to look into why he hesitated later.

“Are you sure you don’t have any parents we need to return you to?” Ezra had repeatedly assured her earlier that he didn’t while the older boy stood quietly by.

Now, however, Ezra isn’t here to answer for him. He hesitates once more, swallowing hard before shaking his head furiously. “N– no. There’s no one for me here.”

Hmm. His choice of words strikes her as odd. She files that away for further consideration as well.

“What do you like to do?” He more than hesitates this time. The teen is silent, but no longer still; he worries away at the hem of his dark sleeve before finally murmuring something she can’t hear. “Come again?”

“I dunno,” he says, only marginally louder.

This, more than any of his other responses, concerns her the most.

“Have you always lived on Coruscant?” she tries.

“No.”

A normal response again. She knows how to handle that one, at the least.

“Where did you live before?”

“Um….”

“Did you move when you were young?” He seems to accept Depa’s answer like a lifeline and nods. “Me too. When I was a baby, pretty much.” She laughs, hoping it will ease his anxiety, however when she casts a glance back at him he’s frozen, staring straight ahead with his eyes wide and nails digging pale crescents into his palms.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmurs, having to glance back at the traffic when a ship in a lane above suddenly drops into her path and she’s forced to swerve. “It’s okay. Did I scare you? You can talk to me, it’s—”

She realizes Ezra and Jocasta have been quiet for a minute or so now, right before Ezra bursts into the cockpit. “Hey, I’m here, it’s okay, you don’t have to be scared,” the child says hurriedly, running straight to the stranger.

“Ezra—”

He’s not listening. Instead, he’s climbing into the copilot’s seat— _and without a safety restraint!—_ and kneeling on it backwards so he can face their new passenger. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be scared. I’m right—”

The older boy blinks, seeming to snap out of his trance. “I– I’m sorry,” he whispers in a hoarse voice, glancing around wildly until he sees Ezra. At the sight of the younger boy, he seems to...calm, almost. But….

 _No, that’s impossible. Ezra’s not quite_ nine _yet._

Still, she’d heard of it happening in the early teens….But no. Ezra is too young.

“You don’t have to be sorry. Everyone gets scared sometimes,” Ezra chirps. Even to Depa, the boy’s words seem oddly reassuring. She smiles. “The only person _I_ know of who doesn’t get scared is Ahsoka! She’s the coolest. You’ll like her.”

“I thought _I_ was ‘the coolest,’” Depa teases gently. Ezra turns, grinning widely.

“You’re pretty cool. But Ahsoka’s been to trial _twice!_ ”

“And that’s what makes so—”

“Wait, did– did you say Ahsoka?”

Depa glances back in shock; this is the most the boy’s spoken so far. Hurriedly she returns her gaze to the windshield; they’re nearing the edge of Coruscant’s pollutant-thick atmosphere and she’ll need to pay closer attention to ensure the _Noble_ gets out without a collision.

“Yeah! Ahsoka’s the best. She tells me cool stories all the time, and helps me—”

“The– the Ahsoka who killed Skywalker?”

“Yeah. Why?”

The newcomer is edging into dangerous territory now, she knows. Depa tightens her grip on the steering yoke and prays to the Force that Ezra won’t have a breakdown again, or at least not until they’re out of reach of the authorities and in hyperspace.

“I just...never mind. I– I shouldn’t have spoken. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to say sorry for talking! I talk all the time! Just ask Master Billaba!”

“Ma– Master?” the boy echoes.

“Yeah! She’s a Jedi Master!”

She glances back in time to see the boy’s eyes roll back in his head as he faints.

* * *

The moment he’s unconscious, Koryi takes her chance.

She’s digging her claws into his mind as he screams, despite knowing it makes no difference.

_When we find you, you’ll be sorry you were ever born!_

_No no no please no I’m sorry I’m—_

She forces pain into his mind, overloading him once again as he screams and begs for forgiveness.

She doesn’t accept apologies, he knows.

_I’m sorry I won’t leave again I won’t leave again I—_

_Silence._

The command is soft, but makes him obey much faster than anything else. Whimpering, he quiets.

Koryi continues, the mental tongue-lashing as harsh as it is quiet. _When we find you, you won’t be able to move. You will_ never _see the light of day again, boy. You wi—_

 _Get out of my kriffing_ head!

His eyes open suddenly and he gasps for breath, immediately sitting up and retching. He hasn’t eaten in twelve hours and his vomit reflects that. Still, the burning feeling reminds him only too much of some of Koryi’s “rewards,” and he sits back on his heels again with a shudder.

It’s only then that he realizes he’s not alone.

He’s on the floor next to a cot he barely realized he fell out of in his haste to rid his mind of Koryi’s presence. And facing him, a small group of people in robes.

He immediately stands, regretting it as the blood rushes to his head.

“Are you okay?”

He turns at the light touch on his mind to see the kid from earlier—Ezra, isn’t it?—standing next to him. He nods, the movement shaky.

“I– yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” he mumbles, remembering how the Brother had never wanted him to mention even the slightest bit of discomfort from Koryi’s constant presence in his mind. “I’m fine.” He glances around at the rest of the group now, eyes flicking from person to person. Most of the group is human, he notes.

Excepting a small green alien, the species of which he doesn’t recognize.

A flash hits him, one of his first Master’s lessons on the Jedi. He’d been shown a hologram of the alien in front of him and told that he was to kill him on sight. And though Koryi hardly abandoned him as his old Master had so often, his loyalty was still stronger to the older man.

He needs to kill him.

He lunges.


	4. Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Implied Torture, Flashback, Restraints, Referenced Character Death, Referenced Manipulation

“He tried to _kill_ Master Yoda.” Shaak’s voice, like her words, are heavy. The weight they add to Depa’s soul doesn’t help either. After all, _she_ is the one who had brought the boy here, who had risked all of their lives. Sure, Jocasta had agreed to her silent request, but _she_ is still the person who made it.

Depa sighs, massaging her temples. The debate has been going on for an hour now, and still seems to be getting nowhere.

“And Obi-Wan? What do you think?”

At Mace’s question, the bearded human glances up. “Hmm?”

“On the subject of the boy.”

“Oh. That.”

The group turns to glance at him, and Depa raises an eyebrow. Obi-Wan clears his throat.

“Anakin came into the Order late with a lot of fear as well,” he begins carefully.

“And he went on to murder many younglings,” Shaak says. Obi-Wan nods.

“He did. However, I believe that was more due to Palpatine’s manipulations than anything.”

“And what proof do we have that Palpatine ever manipulated him?”

“He manipulated Skywalker in front of me,” Mace says, strangely calm. “And when I felt for the boy’s signature, it was...murky.”

“Assisted it may have been, Skywalker’s fall to the Dark Side,” Yoda says quietly.

Obi-Wan nods, deep in thought, and Depa can almost see the gears of his mind working. After a minute or so of silence, the man adds, “We were to blame as well, at least in part. I should have seen Palpatine’s machinations for what they were much sooner.” He glances around at the group. “We all should have.”

The Jedi avoid each other’s gazes. Depa, probably one of the youngest aside from maybe Obi-Wan, wonders how they learn to live with this guilt. With knowing they failed one of their own. _Many_ of their own, in fact.

And then the Force gives her a nudge.

“We should do better by this one, then,” she says softly.

“And invite one so steeped in darkness to join our ranks?” Shaak asks, voice toneless. Hesitantly, Depa nods.

“Yes. After all, he’s just a boy—”

“Who tried to _kill_ Master Yoda.”

“We don’t know what he’s been through. For all we know, he could have been highly traumatized by literally anything—”

“Enough.”

All eyes snap to Mace as he continues. “The boy deserves to be talked to, at the least. By a neutral party.” The door slides open as Shaak speaks up once more.

“What do you mean by—”

“He means me.”

Ahsoka Tano enters, face expressionless.

* * *

“This piece goes here, see? It fits the bantha.”

He nods slowly, confused. He’s not sure why the kid likes this... _game_ so much. It doesn’t have any practical applications, not that he can see at least. Though Koryi’s _games_ with him had seemed that way at first, too.

 _Their_ practical application, he had soon discovered, was in how they helped _her._ Nothing she or the Brother did was designed to benefit him. It’s better that way.

He doesn’t need anything benefitting him. It’s not like anyone would allow him to keep it for long, anyway.

“Hey! Are you paying attention? I asked you where this one goes! It’s your turn now.”

He jumps at the kid’s voice, blinking. Ezra thrusts one of the carved wooden pieces toward him, the intensity in his gaze showing him that he must have been stuck in his mind again. Koryi hates it when he does that.

He makes a mental note not to do it with Ezra again, either.

Carefully, he takes the piece, studying the blank spots in the panel. He places it into the matching one, only to jump at Ezra’s sudden clapping.

“Good job! I can’t play this with anyone else, the babies all try to eat the pieces and the grown-ups are always busy talking. So I’m glad you can!”

He blinks in surprise. Someone being _happy_ because of something he did? Sure, Koryi had been... _pleased_ sometimes, or _satisfied…._ Even his old master had never come close to genuine _happiness,_ however. Not like the kind radiating off of Ezra, at least.

“Okay, my turn.” Ezra hums to himself, picking another piece up.

He’s thrust into a memory, one of many of Koryi as she smiles to herself, eyeing him carefully.

“Okay, now it’s _my_ turn,” she whispers, drawing her lightsaber. His eyes widen as he flinches back in the restraints, screaming muffled pleas of mercy through the gag as she moves the blade closer and closer and closer—

“Are you okay?!”

He jumps, glancing up at Ezra. Groaning, he pushes himself up, wincing at the pounding in his head. Ezra sits back on his heels, gaze troubled.

“You said something about ‘getting out of your head’ and then you flopped over like this.” Ezra demonstrates, flopping dramatically onto his side with his eyes closed. After a second he cracks first one eye open, then the other, before sitting up. “I don’t think that’s very good,” Ezra says, tone somber. He just shrugs in reply, glancing off to the side in order to avoid the child’s piercing gaze.

It’s then that the door opens.

He scrambles to his knees out of habit, immediately ducking his head. He can feel Ezra’s gaze on him and, slowly, he opens his eyes.

A Togruta female stands in front of him, looking down at him with concern. From behind, he hears Ezra’s excited, “Ahsoka!”

“Hey Ezra,” the young woman says, gaze still on him.

Ahsoka.

Ahsoka Tano.

“ _Ahsoka killed your old master’s_ other _apprentice—oh, wait. Didn’t you_ know _he planned on replacing you at some point?_ ”

He bows again, muttering his oath under his breath.

“What was that?” she asks, crouching.

“I pledge my life to you,” he repeats, “slayer of my rival, of who would gladly kill me in my sleep, of who would turn me—”

“Whoa whoa whoa, calm down, kid. I don’t want you pledging your life to me. That’s...that’s not why I’m here.”

Confused, he rises, cocking his head in uncertainty. “Then why…?”

“I came to talk to you, actually. But not about that. Some old...acquaintances of mine called in my assistance.”

“Why would you ever want to speak to me?” he questions, genuinely wondering at her answer. “I’m just a servant to my masters.”

Ahsoka glances at Ezra over her shoulder. “Can you go tell Obi-Wan I’ll be with him again shortly, Ezra? I need to talk to your friend really quick.”

“Yeah!” Ezra moves forward, stretching his arms out toward Ahsoka in a gesture she returns. He vaguely recognizes it, but doesn’t remember what it’s called. “Bye!”

“Bye, kid,” she says, chuckling quietly to herself. Once the door closes, she returns her full focus to him. “I have one question before we get started, okay?” He nods.

“Who _are_ your masters?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Padme again, sorry! She and Clovis will be back soon though :)


	5. Deserving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Self-blaming, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Manipulation, Dehumanization of Self, Threatened Solitary Confinement, Victim of Abuse Trying To Excuse Their Abuse, Referenced Child Neglect, Murder of Parents, Victim Justifying Abuse, Flashbacks

He’s never been a person, and he’s been aware of that almost as long as he can remember.

But still, the intensity with which Ahsoka stares at him almost makes him feel something... _different._

He doesn’t like it.

He doesn’t want to feel like _something._ He only wants to feel like Koryi’s scapegoat, her tool to use to sharpen her own skills whenever she wants; like his first master’s failure of an apprentice, so bad that he’s been abandoned for days on end without even a droid to make sure he’s still alive. He doesn’t like feeling like he matters beyond helping someone else achieve their goals.

Because that’s not him.

The him that _he_ knows should already be back on Coruscant, groveling in front of Koryi and Brother and begging for mercy because he regrets running away he regrets leaving with the Jedi he _regrets he regrets he regrets._

And instead, he’s left with the person who saved his life without meaning to looking at him like he’s worth something.

He _hates_ it.

“Darth Sidious was my first master,” he says, voice quiet. He just wants to get her to think about something other than his worth, because clearly she’s thinking about it wrong. “Now, it’s just...just Koryi.”

“Who’s Koryi?” Ahsoka presses gently. He shrugs, looking down.

 _“_ I _control your every movement, boy, so do_ not _even_ think _about defying me,” she snarls, and he knows she’s glaring down at him despite the fact that he’s on his knees with his head bowed to the floor. “So what do you say in apology?”_

_“I am sorry, Master,” he murmurs automatically. “I pledge myself to you again, and this time I will not—“_

_“Will not_ what? _Try to_ run, _try to go for_ help? _Do you honestly think Brother would have more mercy on you than_ I _would?”_

_“No, Master. I’m sor– sorry. I was mistaken. I should not have—“_

_She crouches, placing a hand on the back of his neck and tightening her grip as he whimpers. “That’s right, boy, you_ were _mistaken. I am infinitely more merciful than Brother would be. He would throw you in the Sith holding cells for a year for even_ thinking _like that. I, however, would merely make sure you endured_ physical _pain. I think we know which one causes you the most agony, do we not?”_

_He nods, shaking even as she holds his neck tighter and tighter until he can feel her nails digging into his skin. “Ye– yes, Master. Thank you for...for having mercy on me. I don’t deserve– I don’t deserve it, or– or you.”_

_“Very good, boy. You would do well to keep that in mind in the future.”_

_He nods, swallowing hard. Her hold suddenly turns soft as she kneads away at the tension coiled tight in his neck. He relaxes into the touch; it’s been far too long since she did something like this. He likes it when her touch isn’t harsh, isn’t demanding an apology. It makes him wonder if he could be a better servant._

Every day could be like this if you’d just _stop messing up, she reminds him through their bond. He nods._

_“Yes, Master.”_

“She’s...she’s better than he ever was,” he whispers, voice hoarse. Ahsoka nods, expression troubled. He’s not sure why.

“Can you tell me a little bit about her?”

Ahsoka sits in front of him, crossing her legs in what he recognizes as a meditative stance. Koryi usually adopted that one; his first master preferred him to meditate while on his knees.

“She’s better, she doesn’t– she doesn’t leave me alone as much, she lets me stay with her. She’s a Mirialan, a little old– a little older than me.” Now that he’s started, the words are coming tumbling out of his mouth, and with them memories of her. Mostly the memories are gentle, memories of times she was kind and didn’t punish him as much as she could have, of times she was forgiving, of times she didn’t take her anger out on him nearly as much as his first master had—

“You said your first master was Sidious, right?” Ahsoka interrupts. His brain grinds to a halt and he swallows, nodding. “Do you remember how old you were when—“

“He wasn’t there when I was taken,” he says, voice much quieter now. “He rescued me. The droids, they– they took me when I...when I was younger. He saved me from them.”

“Droids?” Ahsoka’s gaze turns to that of confusion as he nods. “Did they happen to look like...this?” she says, pulling out a small holoprojector and flipping it on to reveal a hologram.

It’s a blonde clonetrooper with his helmet off, standing next to what looks like a pile of—

_The sand-colored droids shoot their way into the house. Mother falls, screaming. Father, too._

_He huddles behind the chair, shaking. The droids keep coming and they reach the chair and one says, “Blast him!” and they all ready their blasters and they—_

“Yes,” he whispers. “Yeah, they– they looked like those ones.”

Ahsoka grimaces and shuts the holoprojector off. “Hey, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she says, reaching to place a hand on his shoulder.

He flinches back violently and she stops herself short, nodding.

“It’s fine,” he mumbles. “I was little anyway. It just led me to meeting my masters. I...I wouldn’t be anywhere without them.”

“Oh, kid.” Ahsoka shifts, as if going to make a move before deciding against it.

“Did I answer your questions?” he finally asks quietly. Ahsoka nods.

“Yes, thank you. Do you want me to stay? Or can I go speak to the Jedi now?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you need to do. I– I’ll be fine.” Ahsoka hesitates, and he can sense her wavering even with his mind closed to everyone but Koryi— _and Ezra,_ the Force reminds him. He pushes it away. “Go,” he says. “I’ll be okay.”

Ahsoka hesitates again before finally nodding and rising. “Do you want to come with me, to find Ezra?”

“Sure,” he says. He can tell it’s not a suggestion. She’ll get mad if he doesn’t, he knows.

He rises and follows Ahsoka out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Padmé will be back soon I promise!!


	6. Targets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Referenced Manipulation, Referenced Murder due to Self-defense, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Kidnapping

“The Sith aren’t dead.”

At Ahsoka’s flat declaration, chaos erupts.

Depa’s stomach plummets and a million thoughts flood her mind. _What if what if what if—_

And then she sees Ahsoka, waiting calmly for them all to finish panicking. Ahsoka, who came when they called and faced someone that, for all they know, could’ve killed her. Ahsoka, who had the courage to kill Anakin, the courage none of the rest of them had. Ahsoka, who now waits for them to stop panicking like _younglings._

Depa clears her throat, slowly drawing the attention of the other Council members to her. She nods toward Ahsoka. “What else?”

“Too much for me to repeat over and keep details straight, but...it’s bad. He...he was trained by Pal– Sidious. He said he’s willing to talk to a couple of you at a time about it. Not now, though. Tomorrow.”

Depa inhales sharply. She shoots a worried glance at Mace, the one who’s seen firsthand Palpa— _Sidious’s—_ effect on Skywalker. Ahsoka’s voice is too calm for her words, and so is Mace’s expression.

“Trained by Sidious, you said he was?” Ahsoka nods.

“Yes.”

“Where the boy is now, we need to discover,” Yoda says.

“He’s with Ezra and Obi-Wan; Ezra’s working on his ‘saber forms.”

“Separate them, we must.” Yoda rises, leaning heavily on his gimer stick. “Immediately.”

“I agree,” Shaak says, Eeth nodding beside her. “An attempt to kill Master Yoda was our first warning. The Force is giving us our second now, and we shouldn’t ignore it.”

“Wait, hold on, when we were on the _Noble,_ Ezra seemed to almost...to almost calm him down,” Depa says slowly. “Maybe we should hesitate before we just rush in and—“

“No, we need to get him alone _now,_ before– before he does something else,” Luminara cuts in. “We can’t take another risk like that.”

“Personally, I think my Padawan’s got a point.” All eyes turn to Mace. “She’s the only person here who’s actually seen the boy and Ezra interact for any substantial length of time. If anyone knows anything about their dynamic, it’ll be her. If she says Ezra calms him down, I trust that.”

“And what if he’s targeting the boy, similarly to how Sidious targeted Anakin?” Luminara asks, brows knitting together.

A heavy silence falls over the Council.

“If my opinion still means anything here, he seemed to be interacting fine with Ezra. And he was okay with me, too, if...odd,” Ahsoka adds, crossing her arms.

“I think we’ve made our decision. Someone will go talk to him tomorrow, and decide for sure. So we’ll need to figure out lodging for him in the meantime,” Mace says, always the practical one. “We can probably find a spare room on one of the freighters.”

“He doesn’t need a _room,_ he needs a _cell,_ ” Eeth says. “If he was trained by Sidious—“

“That could trigger him into doing something more rash,” Depa points out. “At least let him sit for the day.”

Ahsoka nods. “Let me know whenever you decide, and I’ll go tell him.”

“We’re not putting him in a cell,” Depa says in a rush. “Just in a room on one of the freighters. Right?”

Mace nods in agreement. “We know that hasn’t triggered anything yet. We don’t know what putting him in a cell will do. I feel more comfortable about sticking to the known factors when it comes to the boy.”

“Which ship?” Ahsoka questions hurriedly before someone from the opposing viewpoint can jump in. Depa shoots her a grateful glance.

“The _Noble,_ probably. He’s already been on it and did fine.” Ahsoka nods to Mace and turns to leave.

“I’ll go let him and Obi-Wan know.”

* * *

He watches as Ezra goes through defensive forms with his lightsaber, periodically glancing at Master Kenobi to check he’s doing everything right.

However, he still doesn’t do it right. Ezra does Form IV when Kenobi tells him to use Form III and he tenses, biting his lip as he waits to see Ezra’s punishment.

 _You can’t interfere anyway, you know. He messed up. He needs to learn how to do it_ right _so he won’t get killed._

However, Kenobi doesn’t punish him. He merely steps in, carefully showing Ezra how to fix it.

It’s the strangest thing.

Ahsoka walks in then, the doors opening with a whoosh before her. “He’ll be rooming on the _Noble._ But Obi-Wan, there’s...something I need to talk to you about first.”

The man nods, glancing back at Ezra. “Can we finish our katas first?”

She nods, moving to sit next to him. He shifts uneasily.

“Your recent masters...you said they’re looking for more kids?”

He shrugs. There’s no way he can evade Ahsoka’s question without incriminating himself even more now.

“They talked about it a few times. I dunno how much of it was re– real or not, but...but they talked about it. About taking...about taking more apprentices.”

“You were an apprentice, right?” she asks softly.

“Kind of,” he mumbles. Ahsoka opens her mouth to ask another question and, thankfully, Obi-Wan walks over right then.

“Ahsoka. What did we need to discuss?”

The woman stands, gesturing. Ezra remains as Obi-Wan and Ahsoka walk off, and the kid turns to glance at him.

“Master Obi-Wan says I still need to work a lot on Form III. That one’s hard for me though. Do you have katas?”

* * *

When Padmé steps off her ship and onto the landing pad, she’s not expecting the cloaked figure waiting for her.

Her guards immediately draw their blasters, but she raises a hand. “Stand down,” she says, acting on a hunch. They do, albeit reluctantly, and she approaches the figure. “Who are you?”

“It’s me,” a familiar voice says. “I expected at least a hello at first.”

“Then hello, Obi-Wan,” she says, raising a brow as a slight smile edges onto her lips. “What brings you to Naboo?”

“We can’t discuss it here, not in public,” he warns, and even despite the hood obscuring his features she can feel his gaze shifting to her guards. “My face is still too familiar.”

“Where, then?”

“I...was hoping you’d have a solution to that,” Obi-Wan admits. “You know Naboo better than I do, after all.”

Padmé nods. “Follow me.”

* * *

“We believe that the Sith may not have died with Palpatine,” Obi-Wan begins abruptly. “Or at the least, that the danger did not pass with his death. Masters Billaba and Nu found a boy who’s been more than touched by the Dark Side, and he’s mentioned that there are others who...followed Palpat– _Sidious’s_ teachings.” His words don’t fit this, they don’t fit the peaceful lake before them or the distant noises of the waterfowl. They don’t fit her. _Or_ Naboo.

Padmé nods slowly, now in shock. “Then– then why haven’t you gone to Bail, or to the Chancellor? I’m sure—“

Obi-Wan smiles tightly. “We’ve lost quite a lot of public favor recently, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. I didn’t come just to make you aware. I also came because the boy said that the others with him were seeking...more.”

She’s almost afraid to ask, but she needs to. “More _what?_ ”

He grimaces. “More _children._ ”

The kids.

He’s warning her about the kids.

“E– excuse me, I need to check on– on Luke and Leia…” she murmurs, turning to go back up to the house.

Obi-Wan nods. “Take what time you need.”

As soon as she’s out of sight, it takes all her restraint not to run.


	7. The Quiet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Torture of a Child, Lowkey Stockholm Syndrome, Child Abuse, Restraints, Nightmare Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Hypothetical Kidnapping of Children, Victim Self-blaming

Padmé enters the house through the back and heads to the living room. She can hear Sola in the kitchen, comming someone about something or other.

All she can focus on is the twins.

Padmé glances at Luke. The toddler walks to the tower his sister is working on with a block in hand, placing it carefully atop the stack. The pair stares wordlessly at the tower for a moment and when it doesn’t fall, Leia claps.

She can’t let anything happen to them.

Clovis had implied he knew where they were. While he didn’t seem the type to hurt a child, the war had changed everyone—is _still_ changing everyone—and for all she knows, he’s just as likely to murder a three-year-old as he is to blackmail her.

She had been expecting something else when he’d informed her he knew about her and Anakin, in all honesty. Something along the lines of reinstating their relationship. But instead, he only wanted information.

Information she wouldn’t— _couldn’t—_ give up.

And now, with what Obi-Wan had said about the Sith coming back, about the Sith wanting her _children?_

No.

No, she can’t.

She’d told Anakin once that if their relationship was discovered, it would mean the end of her career. And sure, several smaller serials had reported on rumors of it more than once—rumors with more truth than they probably expected themselves to hold, she supposes—but that had been small, ignorable news.

Now, if others find out that she has secret _children,_ and even more than that the secret children of the Jedi Killer….

Obi-Wan had assured her, once, that he wouldn’t tell the Council if she didn’t want him to. She’d agreed.

But now, if her children really _are_ in danger from the same darkness that corrupted Anakin, she can’t afford to keep them out of the loop much longer.

Sighing, Padmé leans against the wall and massages her temples. She doesn’t want to give her children away, doesn’t want to send her children off with the same people who had somehow missed the signs predating Anakin’s fall.

 _You missed them too,_ a voice reminds her.

Padmé tips her head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

 _Force help me make the right decision for them,_ she prays. _Or at least, have the strength to._

_Like I didn’t with Anakin._

* * *

_Koryi smiles, squeezing the back of his neck possessively with one hand while continuing to lightly run her knife along his arm with her other hand. She doesn’t need to worry about restraining him this time; his hands are cuffed to the wall above him and he’s been forced into a kneeling position facing the wall._

_“Good boy,” she murmurs, tracing a circle on his wrist. He closes his eyes, suppressing a whimper._ She’s here and paying attention to you, stop complaining.

_“You’re being such a good boy, such a good pet.” She traces the circle again, this time hard enough to the point where she breaks the skin in a few places._

_“Such a handsome boy,” she whispers, now breaking the skin in the same circular pattern. He bites his lip to keep from whimpering. “If you behaved yourself more often, maybe I wouldn’t have to keep hurting you.”_

_Her happiness flows in the Force, and he shifts slightly to ease up on the pressure in his knees._

It hurts, Master. I’ll do better next time. Please st– please just stop.

_“I can’t do that,” she says, sighing._

He wakes with a breathless, silent shout, shooting straight upright until his head bangs the bottom of the bunk above him. He closes his eyes tightly, biting his lip to keep from crying out further.

_Useless. Stupid._

He swings his legs over the side of the bed, getting up and stretching. He can’t sense anyone in the bunk above him, and a quick glance over his shoulder confirms his suspicions. No one there.

He’s alone.

He shivers, suppressing a quiet whimper. He didn’t disobey this time...did he? Did he do something to anger Obi-Wan, or Ahsoka, or Ezra?

He’s alone.

Of _course_ he did something to upset them. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t be...he wouldn’t be alone.

He wraps his arms around himself, squeezing tightly. _Your fault._

_You’re here because you upset them._

_It’s because you spoke. Just don’t kriffing_ speak _next time, and maybe they won’t lock you up again._

He’s not sure how long he’s there when there’s quiet footsteps outside the door and it opens. A small figure enters, rubbing their eye.

He goes on the defensive, immediately dropping to his knees and starting to murmur apologies. The figure stops right in front of him.

“Wha’re you doin’? I’s...too early.” Ezra yawns, and he hesitantly rises again.

“I...couldn’t sleep,” he says, hoping Ezra won’t catch the half-lie. Thankfully, the kid doesn’t seem coherent enough to.

“I’s one i’ the mornin’...I heard you wake up…” he mumbles.

“I thought you’re not sleeping here. Master Ahsoka said I was the only one on the ship.”

Ezra shakes his head. “Ahso’a’s no’ a mas’er….An’ I heard you with my mind.”

Ah, kriff. He must’ve been broadcasting his feelings through the Force again. “I’m sorry.”

“‘s okay. Can I...sleep i’ here? ‘s a long walk back….”

He nods immediately, then thinks better of it. “If it won’t get you in trouble.”

Ezra shrugs sleepily, smiling. “They le’ me do a lotta stuff ‘cause I go’ trauma.”

Trauma. He’s heard the word before.

“Who said that?” he asks as Ezra climbs to the upper bunk.

“I dunno, overheard i’. They thought I wasn’ listenin’. Nigh’,” he mumbles, and within minutes there’s soft snoring coming from above him.

He sits on his bunk in silence, trying to calm his racing nerves with the fact that there’s someone else with him right now. They _didn’t_ abandon him, not completely. Or at least Ezra didn’t.

With that thought circling his mind like a Loth-wolf about to strike, he falls asleep.


	8. A Second Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Referenced Child Abuse, Referenced Burning (via lightsaber and vibroblade), Referenced Torture of a Child, Threat of Death to a Child, Dissociation

He wakes with a lightsaber at his throat.

He exhales sharply through his nose, following the glowing blade back up to the face of its owner. A Mirialan woman, diamonds tattooed beneath the stern set of her lips, is staring down at him above her green blade.

 _Koryi said all the Mirialans train each other kriff maybe she knows Koryi kriff kriff_ kriff _maybe that’s why she’s here to kill me—_

“Hey, don’t point that at him! He’s being nice! You woke him up!”

He hears noises from the bunk above him and then sees Ezra’s face pop down from it, hair flopping into his eyes.

“Ezra, I need you to stay where you are. We’re trying to keep you safe,” a voice says. He turns, gaze snapping to the man standing a few feet behind the Mirialan, hand already on the hilt clipped to his belt.

“But he didn’t do anything! I came in on my own! Don’t get mad at him because I—”

“Ezra, please don’t interfere. We’ve been looking for you all morning.” The woman’s voice is soft, but it still carries a faint warning tone. He stiffens, swallowing hard.

Maybe, if he moves quick enough, he’ll be able to get out before—

“Mace, there you are, I was—what are you doing?!”

He hears the familiar sound of Master Billaba’s voice and strains to look beyond the blade in front of him. He sees her push past the man and arrive next to the Mirialan.

“Put your ‘saber down, Luminara,” she says, voice even. There’s a moment where he doesn’t think she’ll listen, but then she does, and a weight is lifted off his shoulders as the woman sheathes her blade and steps back. She does not, however, clip it to her belt quite yet.

“What happened?”

“Mace suggested we check on the boy while looking for Ezra, and we did. Ezra was...well, you can see for yourself.” She nods to the bunk above.

“Ezra, can you explain why you’re somewhere we specifically told you _not_ to go?” Master Billaba asks, voice still as steady as before.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I came to see him!”

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”

“Trauma!” the boy says cheerfully.

Master Billaba and the other woman exchange glances.

“Ezra, that’s...not really….”

“Where did you learn that word?” Mace asks as Master Billaba flounders.

“I dunno. I overheard someone talking about me, and they said I had it.” The adults exchange glances again. Finally the woman, Luminara, speaks up again.

“Ezra, I still want you to come down.”

“Okay,” he sighs, and within moments the boy is sliding down the ladder hooked to the bunks. He walks to Master Billaba, leaning against her side as she musses his hair absently.

Koryi had done that to him sometimes, too. A gesture of endearment, she’d called it, at the same time she’d traced letters on his skin with a vibroblade.

“Ezra, why don’t you get some breakfast?” Mace asks, breaking him out of his reprieve. The boy nods, scampering toward the door before pausing and glancing back.

“Can my friend come? He just woke up so I bet he’s super hungry too!”

“He’ll come later,” Mace says without looking at the kid.

“Okay!” Ezra runs off, and he’s suddenly left with the three adults.

“Why was Ezra _really_ in here?”

“He couldn’t sleep, like he said,” he answers Luminara. “I couldn’t either, so we talked for a couple of minutes and then he climbed up there and...fell asleep.”

Mace holds his gaze for a long minute before finally nodding. “Thank you for being honest.” He only shrugs. Lying’s just more likely to get him in trouble.

“What’s your name?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Do you have something you like to be called?” the man asks.

“Not particularly,” he says, shrugging. He allows his gaze to drop to the floor.

“Ahsoka said that you told her a couple of people trained you. Can you tell us about them?”

“The first one was named Sidious, a human. He had...I don’t know, he had something to do with the government. He was away a lot. He shocked me whenever he was home, so...so maybe that was good.”

The adults exchange glances again, and he gets the feeling they know something that he doesn’t.

“And the others?”

“There was a Pau’an, Brother. He had gold eyes, and– and he didn’t like me much. He gave me to Koryi instead.”

“Koryi Crinett?” Mace’s voice is gentle, but the images, the _feelings_ his questions evoke are anything but.

“I don’t know her last name. She was Mirialan, a few years older than me. She...she didn’t like me, but she was okay with having me. I helped her.”

“Helped her with what?”

“Anything,” he whispers. “Whatever she wanted me to. Mostly...mostly it was just training. Brother trained her, and she needed someone to practice with.”

“ _By the Force…_ ” one of the adults whispers under their breath. He can’t tell who, the floor is infinitely more interesting.

It’s ironic. Now that he’s actually talking about everything that happened, it feels more like he _watched_ it happen to someone else rather than felt it happen to himself. Koryi’s soft words feel more like they were spoken to another person, to someone else. He doesn’t remember the burns from her lightsaber as if they came to himself, but rather as if he watched them come to someone else.

“Do you want to go eat with Ezra?” Master Billaba asks quietly. He hesitates before nodding.

“Yeah.”

“They’re eating outside the ships this morning, so it should be fairly easy to find him,” she says. He nods in thanks and exits, thoughts swirling aimlessly as he walks.

* * *

“By the _Force—_ ” Luminara begins for maybe about the seventh time.

“We know,” Depa says. “It’s...we know.”

“We never even _noticed,_ Mace,” Luminara whispers. “We never even got so much as a _hint_ from her—”

“I know,” he says, voice quiet.

“We have to find her,” Depa says. “If there’s any chance we can bring her back to the Light—”

“ _No._ ”

Both she and Luminara look up at him. Mace’s expression is thoughtful, but firm.

“What—”

“No. You heard the boy. And I’m sure you both felt the same things I did from him. Whatever is in Koryi’s mind now is not what was in her mind four years ago.”

“The war ended three years ago. There’s a good chance she didn’t Fall until—”

“ _Anakin_ showed signs of Turning _more_ than three years ago! And did any one of us see them?! _No._ No, we didn’t,” he says, voice hard. “We didn’t see any from Barriss, either. Or from Krell. Or from Dooku. We’ve missed _plenty_ of signs. And it’s far too late for them, including Koryi.” He sighs, the sound shuddering as he runs a hand over his face. “We’re just too hard-headed to see when someone’s struggling.”

“This boy is a chance to change that,” Depa says. “ _He_ is struggling. So why can’t we help him while we still have a chance?”


	9. The Tip of Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Referenced Child Murder, Referenced Murder in Self-defense, Referenced Genocide, Referenced Parent Death, Victim Self-blaming

As Padmé leaves the house, she catches sight of Obi-Wan standing at the balcony over the lake, watching the still waters with a posture she would almost call forlorn.

“Can you sense him?” she asks, approaching.

He turns just enough to glance over him shoulder before looking back out at the water. “Not exactly.”

She nods, stopping next to him and looking out at the water alongside him. After a long period of silence, she says, “He loved it here.” Obi-Wan remains silent, and she interprets that as a sign to continue. “Always said it was much better than Tatooine. He complained about the sand there occasionally,” she admits, smiling at the memory. She lowers her gaze to the stone, studying the occasional blemish of the otherwise smooth railing. “He liked that it was quieter here, too, than Coruscant.” _And the Temple,_ she leaves unsaid. Obi-Wan seems able to tell either way.

“Anakin certainly loved being in the middle of things, but he also had an appreciation for the quiet,” he says. His voice is overly formal, almost as if he’s narrating a biography of her husband and his friend rather than being the one who knew him.

“How’s Ahsoka?” she asks after a minute.

Obi-Wan’s shoulders tense just enough to notice. “She’s...she’s Ahsoka,” he says with a sigh. “She comes around sometimes, mostly when I comm to check up on her. She arrived shortly before I left, actually; to evaluate the boy for us.” Padmé nods, and he finally looks at her. She keeps her gaze down as his voice lowers. “She was protecting all of us, Padmé. It wasn’t Anakin that she killed. He was long gone by that point.”

She nods, running the pad of her thumb along the railing. “I know.”

“It wasn’t Anakin who killed– who killed the children,” he continues. “That was...that was Vader.”

Padmé can’t help the shudder that runs through her at his words. She’s seen the footage, just like all of them have. That wasn’t _her_ Anakin.

Your _Anakin killed an entire tribe of Tusken Raiders in retribution for his mother’s death,_ a small part of her mind reminds her. _What would he have done for you and your children?_

She doesn’t want to think about it anymore. Mostly because she _knows_ what he would have done.

Because he _did._

Her decision is made.

“Did he ever tell you what happened on Tatooine?” she asks without feeling.

“He told me his mother died. That she was killed by Tuskens.”

“He was right. But there was...more.” She swallows, hard, raising her gaze from the railing to the lake ahead as she continues. “He...he slaughtered them all. The whole clan. The men...the women...even the children….He was Falling for a long time before you all noticed.” She turns to look up at him. “It was my fault, too. I should’ve told someone...I should’ve….”

“Padmé.” His voice is soft, not the hard-edged tone she would’ve expected after telling him the massacre of his entire _culture_ could’ve been prevented if she had simply opened her mouth and spoke out like she did so often with practically every other issue. “He gave me warning signs, too. He gave _all_ of us signs. We were...we were simply too blind to see them.”

She nods. “I just...if I had only _told_ someone….” She swallows hard again, blinking. “The reason I’m telling you this, in– in the first place….” She turns to meet his eyes.

“I want you to take the twins.”

* * *

“Sola, I—”

“No.” Padmé blinks in surprise as Sola continues to pack a bag for the twins. “I understand. It’s something to do with– with their father. Or their safety; maybe someone blackmailed you politically and you’re worried about them.” Sola pauses, slowly rising without the bag. She turns abruptly to Padmé, hugging her tightly.

“I love you, and I love them like my own,” she whispers. “And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the tiniest bit upset. But if it’ll protect them, I trust you.”

Padmé nods as Sola pulls back, eyes shining.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

Her sister shakes her head. “You’re the one who knew the Jedi. All we know are the stories, and their reputation.”

Padmé swallows. “I’m sorry,” she repeats.

“Just let me see at least _holograms_ of them periodically.” She nods.

“Of course.” _They’re more your children than mine, anyway._

Sola returns to packing the bag, and Padmé moves toward the front room in a daze.

Leia stands with her hands on her hips as Luke plays with a toy starfighter, making whooshing noises as he flies it around a block city.

“It needs to land in the hangar!” Leia insists.

“But they still gotta fly! They’re going hi—”

“No they _isn’t!_ ” she shouts, grabbing for the starfighter. Luke pulls away, shaking his head as Leia stamps a foot in frustration.

“Mama, Luke’s not played the rules!”

“Am too!”

“Am _not!_ ”

The twins continue arguing, and Padmé can’t help a slight smile as she leans against the doorframe.

_They’re your own kids, and you don’t even have the faintest idea how to take care of them._

Sola thankfully enters then, stopping next to Padmé as she surveys the mess of toys. “Luke, Leia!”

The children stop tussling immediately and turn, thankfully just in time; Leia appears about to tug on Luke’s hair.

“Your Aunt Padmé is going to take you on a special trip, okay?” The kids nod, and Leia drops her hand. Padmé notices that she shoots a glare at Luke—or at the starfighter still clutched in his tiny hand—as they walk toward Sola. She kneels, pulling both of them into a hug.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“Mama, don’t cry!” Luke protests, hurriedly rubbing away the tear that falls from Sola’s eyes. He takes the hem of his shirt, thrusting it toward her. “Here! Dry them here!”

“Where are we going, Aunt Padmé?” Leia asks, shooting a final glare at Luke’s toy before glancing up.

“I’ll tell you after your mother says goodbye,” she says. Leia frowns before turning back, walking over to awkwardly hug Sola while avoiding touching Luke. She sticks her tongue out at him as he continues his attempts to get Sola to dry her eyes on his shirt.

Finally Sola releases Luke and rises, walking to Padmé and picking up the bags. “These are for you two, okay? Aunt Padmé will help you with them; there’s toys, snacks….”

As Sola continues, Padmé can’t help but feel stuck behind a transparisteel wall, watching the trio interact, just as if they are the typical nuclear family and not an aunt with her niece and nephew only cognizant of their roles as her biological children, and unaware of Padmé having _any_ relation to them, aunt or not.

Once again, Padmé wonders if this is the right decision.

_The Jedi will be able to keep them safe. Safe from the Sith, safe from Clovis, and safe from you._

Sola finishes, handing the bags to Padmé. The sisters exchange another hug as Luke and Leia wave goodbye.

The three begin heading down to the balcony overlooking the lake, and Obi-Wan.


	10. Staying Afloat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for "Dissociation" for Bad Things Happen Bingo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Child Abuse, Dissociation, Flashbacks, Child Death, Victim Self-blaming, Panic Attack

Ezra glances up as a ship enters the atmosphere, shielding his eyes against the suns. “Look!”

His friend glances up, too, before dropping his gaze back to the drawing he’s scratching into the dirt.

Ezra, irritated with the older boy’s lack of reaction, points to the ship. “That’s one of ours! It must be Master Kenobi coming back!” Ezra gets up, heedless of the dust on his robes as he starts walking toward the central area of the camp. “Come on!”

The older boy does, for a moment, before stopping abruptly. “I….”

Ezra barely notices his hesitation, the initiate already running to the ship as it touches down. After a moment, the older boy follows. As Master Kenobi exits the ship a few moments later, he’s holding a sleeping boy in his arms while a girl tugs on his hand excitedly.

Something starts buzzing in Ezra’s mind.

_“Master Skywalker, there are too many of them!” Sors cries. “What are we going to do?”_

_In answer, Ezra hears the blue hum of a lightsaber being snapped open._

Ezra steps backward, toward his friend, trying to push the memories okay.

 _Sors screams, and Ezra holds back a gasp._ It’s okay he doesn’t know you’re here he doesn’t—

_Another scream has Ezra clapping his hands over his ears, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to escape the carnage._

“Ezra, I think they want to talk to you.”

Ezra blinks, drawn back to the present thanks to the voice of the older boy. He turns his gaze on the ship, offering a shy wave as the girl grins widely at them.

“You should come talk to them, too,” he says softly. The older boy stiffens.

“Maybe later. I….”

“Please. I– I don’t want to do this alone.”

The buzzing in Ezra’s mind has swelled to a roar by the time the older boy sighs. “Okay.”

Together, they head over to the ship. Master Kenobi stops, releasing the girl’s hand to shift the sleeping toddler.

“Ah, Ezra. Ezra, this is Leia, and Luke.”

Ezra scrunches his face up. “Why’re they here?”

“They have the Force like we do. Their mother wanted...training for them.” Ezra nods at his explanation, turning to Leia.

“I’m eight and three quarters! How old are you?”

Leia smiles, holding up three fingers. “Are you a Jedi?”

“I’m gonna be one soon!”

They continue speaking, and Ezra sees Master Billaba come forward to speak with Master Kenobi. Ezra turns to his friend, gesturing him closer. He does so hesitantly.

“This is Leia! She’s three.”

The boy nods slowly. “What’s your name?” Leia asks.

“I, uh...I don’t have one.” There’s silence for only a few seconds before Leia breaks it.

“Why doesn’t we give you one? Mama says a name is very important!”

The older boy laughs softly before shrugging. “Sure.”

Leia furrows her brows, sticking her tongue out as she concentrates for a moment. “Oh! What about Kanan?”

The boy nods slowly. “Kanan. Yeah. I...yeah.”

Leia grins, jumping. “Yay! Now—”

“Leia, come here please. Just for a moment.” She turns at Master Kenobi’s voice.

“Okay! Bye!” She waves to Ezra and Kanan before going to Master Kenobi.

Ezra turns to Kanan. “I’m happy they’re staying.”

Kanan nods, seeming to be deep in thought. “Yeah. I...me too.”

* * *

He hasn’t had a name in years.

Kanan sits next to Ezra as Master Unduli goes through the basics of the Force with them before they start actually meditating. He flexes his fingers repeatedly, trying to focus on that rather than the feeling creeping up his spine that he’s done this before.

“Can you tell me why we use the Force to meditate when many others do not, Ezra?” she asks. The boy nods.

“The Force, it binds us together, everyone, it—“

Ezra keeps on rambling his answer excitedly.

However, Kanan’s far in his own mind.

“It– it’s the Force, it’s made to bend to our will, it—“

She backhands him, hard, and he feels her smugness through their bond. “Faster next time. And address me _correctly._ ”

He nods, ducking his head, already feeling the next strike before she even asks her question.

“Are you okay?”

He blinks, glancing up at Ezra. The boy’s on his feet, concern permeating his features.

_You don’t deserve that. Not after what you’ve done._

“Ye– yeah,” he says, nodding jerkily. “Yeah.”

Ezra frowns. “You don’t _look_ okay.”

“I’m fine. I think I’m gonna...gonna go sit in my room for a bit.” He gets up without another word, ignoring Master Unduli’s glance of worry, and heads to his room.

He barely makes it to the middle of the room before he collapses to his knees, feeling sick. He’s not sure how long he’s there, head pounding and stomach twisting, when there’s a knock on his door.

“It’s me,” Master Windu says, voice muffled through the whirling haze of his mind. “Luminara said you ran out of your lesson, so I wanted to come check on you. Can I come in?”

He doesn’t want to say yes, but if he says no they’ll still find a way in. He nods weakly. “Okay.”

The door slides open and the Jedi walks in. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I...I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

He gestures weakly at the room in general as Master Windu kneels next to him. “Any of it. Just...I can’t. I can’t- I can’t be a Jedi, I...I’m sorry but I just….”

“Kanan, the first steps are always hard.”

 _You don’t_ deserve _a name._

“I can’t do it,” he whispers.

“You _can,_ Kanan. It just takes time, and patience, and endurance. And you definitely have that last one.”

He swallows hard, shaking his head. “I...I don’t.”

“Yes, you _do._ ”

Master Windu shifts so he’s sitting cross-legged next to Kanan. “If you didn’t have that, you wouldn’t be here. Do you understand? You would’ve given up long ago, and you never would have found Ezra in the Temple. Okay?”

He still shakes his head. “No, I...if I had endurance, I would’ve been– I would’ve been strong enough to stay.”

“Kanan, look at me.” Slowly, he raises his gaze and turns to Master Windu. The Jedi’s expression is intense, but not in a bad way. “If you hadn’t had endurance, you would’ve been lost long ago. You would’ve been a Sith by now if you didn’t resist. But because you did, you’re stronger than everyone who didn’t. Running doesn’t mean quitting; it means that you were strong enough to realize when something was wrong and to leave it for the hope of something better. Okay?”

Kanan doesn’t respond this time, only dropping his gaze from Master Windu’s face to the floor. “And what if you’re wrong? What if– what if I _did_ stop fighting back?”

“No one would have blamed you. You’ve been through a lot. And no one blames you for any of it.

“This war, it...it made us all ruin ourselves just to stay afloat. Some fell off the raft, and some were never on it to begin with but they stayed above water anyway. That’s you. You’ve kept your head up for years. Don’t let yourself quit now.”

Kanan swallows, nodding. “Th– thank you.”

Master Windu nods in reply. “Now, what do you say we give meditation a try in here?”


	11. Of Padawans and Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for "Children" for Found Family Bingo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Referenced Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture of Child

When Mace had agreed to take on the difficult task of connecting with Kanan, Depa could practically guarantee that he hadn’t expected the side effect of the teen becoming nearly _attached_ to his side.

The man can barely move without Kanan coming up, offering to do anything he can to help. One day, however, it seems that Mace must have finally spoken to Kanan about it, because the teen seems to be more reluctant to offer help.

That doesn’t mean he’s no longer a constant presence.

Depa has to admit that she finds the whole thing adorable. Yes, Kanan technically _isn’t_ his Padawan, but with the Order as fractured as it is, he may as well be.

And maybe that’s close enough.

Kanan still doesn’t show up to his daily lessons with Luminara most of the time, though that’s to be expected. Mace confides in his own former apprentice one day during a rare minute of Kanan’s absence that he’s made progress with the boy, gotten him to open up more. Depa’s glad.

Ezra, too, has been making progress. He’s been sleeping through the night better, or at least his shields are strong enough now that his nightmares don’t wake the whole Order. He’s trying to actually reach out to Luke and Leia, too, something he’d rarely done before Kanan. Sure, he hadn’t been _unfriendly_ , but the very nature of Ezra’s survival had alienated him from the other younglings whether he liked it or not.

To Depa, it seems like everything is finally turning up for a change.

Which is why when Master Yoda summons her to a meeting she becomes very, very worried.

She’s barely closed the door when Mace clears his throat and says, “We know who Kanan is.”

She walks over to sit in the makeshift circle of chairs they’ve made, raising an eyebrow. Obi-Wan’s there, too, and his expression is just as grim as the rest of theirs.

“Beyond a traumatized boy forced into things he didn’t want?” she asks.

“Caleb Dume, his birth name was.” Yoda taps the holoprojector in the middle of the circle with his gimer stick, and a file appears. Depa’s eyes narrow as she recognizes the text as a list of names from the list of Force-sensitive children on the holocron. One in particular is highlighted.

“He was born on Lothal, an Outer Rim world. He and Ezra share a homeworld,” Mace continues. “And now that we know what his birth name was, I realized...Master Yoda and I, we were sent to find him, a long time ago, years before the Cleansing. Along with another few kids on neighboring planets. Dume’s parents...they were reluctant to hand him over. We, of course, agreed and said they could keep him, and if he ever wanted to learn more they could bring him in as long as he was younger than three standard cycles.”

Depa nods. It’s not abnormal for parents to want to keep their children. And Mace has been a Seeker on and off for years now. He’s dealt with this situation plenty of times.

“They never contacted us again, and Ezra’s parents brought him to the Temple, and we never had another Lothal-born on the list, so there was no reason…” Mace trails off, staring at the hologram file.

“So...do we have a hypothesis as to how he ended up with Pal- Darth Sidious?”

Obi-Wan nods. “Yes. Anakin and Ahsoka had a mission, at one point, to retrieve a holocron from Cad Bane. In the process, they discovered that there was a plot...a plot to kidnap Force-sensitive infants and, presumably, to raise them in the Dark. Therefore, it’s not much of a stretch to assume that that was, or was similar to, Dume’s predicament, especially given what he’s told us so far.” Somehow, he manages to keep his voice devoid of emotion, speaking about the probable past of a boy who only wanted to live peacefully with his family, and instead drew the shortest stick possible.

Depa sighs, massaging her temples. “I feel as if we discover worse things about Darth Sidious every minute since his death,” she says, voice hollow.

Obi-Wan laughs, the sound empty and joyless. “I would have to agree with you there.”

“On a lighter note, Kanan’s been making progress recently. Slow, but still progressing. He should be ready to take on the role of a Padawan soon, provided we still uphold that tradition.” At Mace’s words, Depa raises an eyebrow.

“And you wouldn’t be taking him on as yours?”

There’s a single moment of silence in the room, during which Mace tries to defend himself before Depa raises her hand.

“I’ve seen you two interact. You fit together perfectly.”

“Solely because I’ve touched the Dark?”

“Not just that, though that does factor into it. He _cares_ for you, Master. As close to attachment as a Jedi can come.”

Mace is silent, pondering her words. When he next speaks, his voice is quiet. “And what if it turns out I’m _not_ a good fit?”

Depa shrugs. “Then we reconvene. The Force is fluid. We tried to be static in it for too long, and we learned our lesson. But we still need to _apply_ it.”

Mace nods thoughtfully and Yoda taps his gimer stick on the projector again, clicking it off. “Very good points, Master Billaba made. Discuss this again, later, we shall.”

Depa and Obi-Wan nod, rising at the same time. The pair heads for the door as Mace lingers to speak to Yoda, and as they walk down the hall together Obi-Wan clears his throat.

“Ezra seems quite taken with the twins.”

Depa nods in agreement. “He told me they were ‘smarter’ than the other younglings, which is apparently his reason for playing so much with them,” she snorts, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not quite sure we should be encouraging such elitist behavior in him,” Obi-Wan says, fighting back a smile.

“In all honesty, I’m just glad he’s finally opening up. And to people...less traumatized than he is.”

He nods, silent. They reach the ramp of the ship and exit, pausing at the base.

“If you ever need someone to teach them katas once they’re old enough, I’m sure Ezra would,” she says. He nods, smiling.

“I may take him up on that.”

They linger for a moment longer before Depa smiles in farewell, starting off to the mess hall to check on the boy. If she’s being honest with herself, all this talk of Padawans has made _her_ wonder...but no. She can’t take on a Padawan. She had no experience with one even _during_ the war.

 _Maybe that’s exactly why you_ should _take one on._

She brushes the thought away and continues walking.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up, Ezra is only about eight years younger than Kanan in this AU.


End file.
